


Lobotomy

by Orca (Orca2)



Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:37:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orca2/pseuds/Orca





	

His gaze was dull like the back of a knife,

Hollow smiles and words that mean nothing, laughing until my lungs hurt just to catch your attention. My hands are nets. Pleading, open nets that sway towards any scrap of life that swims by it. My head is a buzz of static and white noise, I hold my breath and delve into the depths of misery to block it out. 

Glass eyes, twisted smile. Water blurs the image and my stomach feels like a pit. Hoorah, hoorah, take me under, swallow me whole, hold me until I forget about the horrid world above.

Swimming, aimless and lost. Heartbeats sync with the tick of a clock. 

My teeth are rotted Swiss cheese, I can feel the maggots crawling through it's holes. I dare not open my mouth, I dare not smile.

My breath is equally rancid, burning drops of pungent acid in the back of my throat. I dare not speak. 

My eyes are streaked with veins, they itch with the bits of plastic infesting them. I hold my arms down to keep from clawing. I dare not open them, I dare not look at the monster creeping to my side. I cower beneath my layers of silence and hide scars that aren't there.

I am disgusting. I do not deserve kindness.

Those things may not be true, but believing in it makes life easier when kindness in my direction is of short supply. Hating yourself is easier, because then cruelty seems fair.

Locked in a quiet room with clouded windows. Water soon floods through the doors.

It swishes, sloshes, and claims my aching heart and bones.

Here in my fishtank, where I stare out with longing, where I stare out with disgust. I make promises through the glass walls and never keep them. Giving up is so much easier than fighting for air. When I know even the best outcome will leave me a flattened strip on a hanger.

My chest swells with pride, loud enough to distract me from the world surrounding. Let's play a game, to pass the time. 

Who can stay quiet the longest? Who will be the first to cave from loneliness? How long can you hold your resolve?

Me, I win. Always me.

It sends a shiver of satisfaction, in the way I know such things shouldn't.

In this water of sadness, where I am detached from the world above, I can cope. Suffering is easier when you don't have the promise of happiness dangling in front of your gullible eyes. 

Because I am happy now. I do not need a scolding, a mother, a slap across the wrist. I am fine alone, in my cavern, regardless of what goes on around me. And there I will reside.

I drop my pencle, and bare my nails. It is easier when you hate life, when you hate all the things you will eventually have to let go of. I was never much of a gallant warrior, and more of a coward. Because misery is a promise, an absolute. Everything dies. Everyone suffers. Happiness is fleeting, a lottery. I've dragged myself through this lottery too many times to count, and I'm no happier than when I started.

If the top of the pyramid is just as unsatisfying as the bottom, why try to climb? If you squash out your happiness, no one can take it from you. Hide, stay passive to the outside. I live inside the pit of my skull, a place that no one but me can call their own.

 

I do not want to be a part of this world. It is rotten.

Or rather, I do want to be a part of this world, and it is that longing that leads me down the path of vulnerability. Where my heart is an open shooting range with a red dot at the center. 

This world is disgusting, I say over and over and over. Do not get attached, do not delude yourself with false hope. They will leave you on the curb when they are done with you, just like anyone else has. Just as you have done the same.

 

Drown out the world.

If there is any chance of loss, slink down towards it. 

In death you will have nothing. If I have nothing, then I have nothing to fear.

 

If this is love, then I don't want it. 

If this is love, then I don't want it. 

If this is love, then I don't want it. 

 

If this is life, then I don't want it.


End file.
